


Paradigms

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, PWP, barely a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: But that was just the problem; Shane wasn’t just a friend or a new person. From the first moment there had been this instant static in the air.





	Paradigms

PARADIGMS

Something about the way Shane had said, “maybe I don’t,” when Ryan accused him of not understanding how love works had bothered him ever since. The flat, soft tone. The casual way he’d brushed it off. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just supposed to be a flippant joke, but the sharp intake of breath and the careful way Shane responded set Ryan on edge and refused to leave his mind for weeks now. He finds himself restless in his apartment, the counters scrubbed and the dishes done and the walls wiped down. He finds himself restless so he leaves for a walk, and he finds himself standing restlessly in front of Shane’s building, shivering in the evening on the sidewalk.

He walks in, climbs the stairs slowly up to the second floor, and approaches the door. He pauses to knock, but he’s never knocked before, really, because Shane would always text for him to come right in before he even arrived, and so he opens the door and walks right in.

*

Years ago, when they’d first met, Ryan had found himself outside his comfort zone, shy and nervous. It wasn’t a mood he was used to, had taken him a long time to identify why, because he had always been outgoing and good at talking to new people and making friends. But that was just the problem; Shane wasn’t just a friend or a new person. From the first moment there had been this instant static in the air. Like they just worked; like when you meet someone and you’re best friends from then on; like there was something complimentary in their auras or energies or vibes if you like. Something about them was magnetic. He had never doubted for a second that they would get along, had known they would be friends within minutes, but still he found himself shy and reserved.

*

The living room is empty but Ryan can hear music and see light shining from Shane’s bedroom. He feels suddenly like an intruder, but shook the feeling. He called out, but no one responded. Ryan was certain he was probably just listening to music while editing and had the volume too high. Ryan was only partially correct.

*

It took weeks before they spent time together outside of work. Ryan remembers Shane joking about thinking he hated him. They were at a bar, and while Ryan watched his long fingers wrap around the neck of a sweating beer and lift it to his lips, watched the column of his throat while he swallowed. Shane was only partially correct.

*

He walks down the hall and raps his hands lightly on the bedroom door. It isn’t even closed, but now that he’s closer he feels like he’s made a mistake. There’s not just music playing, there’s a video playing. It sounds athletic. It sounds brazen. It sounds like the unmistakable sounds of sex. Ryan tries, but can’t stop himself as a sort of morbid curiosity outweighs his judgment. Absurdly, he thinks, I should come back later even while stepping into the room. Shane is at his desk.

“Oh.” Ryan says, dully.

“Oh.” Shane says, considerably more surprised.

His clothing is in a pile on the floor. His computer is bathing his body in pale blue light. His face is flushed and he’s breathing shallowly and quickly. Ryan battles with himself, and keeps his eyes above his friend’s shoulders, fixes his eyes on a spot on the wall up and to the left.

Neither of them move. Ryan thinks he should. Neither of them say anything. Shane’s dick is still fisted in his hand, still hard.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have just barged in,” Ryan says. It sounds off to his ears. Like he only imagined that he spoke. He’s about to apologize again when Shane shrugs his wide shoulders. He doesn’t move his hand.

“It’s okay,” he says cautiously, “you could… wait a minute for me to get dressed and I’ll be right out…” he supplies. Then, like he’s second guessing himself the whole time it tumbles out, he adds, “or you could join me. If you want.”

*

Shane shared an uber with him that night, both of them too drunk to walk home. He insisted on climbing into the back seat next to Ryan, all his long limbs cramped up in the small car, but he just leaned over. The heat rising, the air thin, Ryan’s breath coming in pants. Ryan certain that if he were slightly more drunk he might lean in and try to kiss Shane.

Shane stayed crowded into Ryan’s space the whole ride, and when they pulled up outside of Ryan’s he hesitated before climbing out. “You could just crash here if you want,” he said, and Shane seemed to consider it, the drunk flushed across his cheeks, until he shook his head.

“Not tonight,” he said, saying nothing else while Ryan stood on the sidewalk, and the car pulled away from the curb.

*

He still hasn’t moved. He watches the muscles around Shane’s shoulder flex slightly. He knows what that means but he still hasn’t looked. He doesn’t know what to do, like balancing on a tightrope he knows that he must now move either forward or backward but he’s too indecisive.

“Okay,” he says low and Shane’s eyes narrow slightly. His arm moves slowly in one direction and back the other. The sight of it has Ryan rock hard in his jeans. He strips off his shirt, feeling nerves shake in his fingers, and Shane’s eyes track down from his eyes to his hips, track his fingers work the button and zipper loose.

He turns his attention back to the screen as Ryan walks around to the head of the bed where he can see too. His dick is tenting his boxers. He’s so hard it hurts. Shane’s arm is still working up and down. As he moves around the desk he gets a view of the long line of Shane’s arm, the fist loose around a long, thick cock that surprises Ryan into sitting roughly against the headboard.

Shane’s attention is on the video, but Ryan can’t stop watching where his hand slides the length of his dick over and over and over, slowly and teasingly. “You gonna join me or just watch?” Shane says without looking over. As if he’d been waiting for the invitation, he slips his boxers off and grips his own erection tight. It forces a gasp from him, and from the profile of his face Ryan watches Shane’s lips twitch up into a grin when he hears it.

Ryan tries to match Shane’s tempo but it’s torturous and slow. He’s getting wet, his foreskin sliding easily back and forth and the slick noise of it quiet against the sounds of fucking from the screen. When his eyes travel back to Shane’s face he’s looking over his shoulder, eyes locked on Ryan’s face. His eyes are heavy, dark, his cheeks flushed, his lips look like he’s been biting them to keep quiet. It shocks a moan from Ryan and Shane echoes it, a low noise from his gut.

“Come here,” Ryan says suddenly, abandoning pretense of this just being masturbatory. Shane looks impossibly more turned on, and stands from his chair and crosses the room in one motion. His hand still hasn’t left his dick, and his other hand finds Ryan’s shoulder and pushes him to lay on his back. “What-” Ryan starts but then Shane is straddling him and his long, long fingers are wrapping around the both of them.

Ryan tosses his head back. “Oh,” he says. Shane’s dick twitches against his and he swears he can feel the blood pulsing through the thick vein running up it. Shane’s hand tightens and he crowds down into Ryan’s space. Ryan thrusts his hips without warning and Shane responds in kind, the both of them fucking his fist and the whole thing getting wetter and messier as they go.

The video ends.

Shane’s face is hovering there above Ryan’s, and he’s so tempted to lean up and press their lips together. Shane’s lips find their way to his jaw, as he leans further in to switch the angle and continue rutting against him, and he bites a hickey into Ryan’s neck just below his ear. “Fuck, Shane,” Ryan says and the rough way his voice comes out shocks the both of them. Shane pulls back to make eye contact, and then grins wolfish. “Fucking kiss me,” Ryan says. Shane’s hips rock forward again, and then he says, “fuck yeah,” before diving in.

Both his hands find their way to Ryan’s jaw while his hips keep working against Ryan’s. They’ve found a rhythm, a cadence that’s quickly carrying them toward orgasm, but when Shane presses his rough lips against Ryan’s and swallows up the moan he gets in return they abandon all pretense of order or finesse and start bucking against each other wildly.

Ryan thinks, all things considered, he’s handling this fairly well, and keeping it together longer than he thought he would. He’s proven only half right, again, when Shane’ hand slips down his side and he palms roughly at his ass. This elicits a sudden shout and his dick twitches wildly in between Shane’s dick and his stomach and everything else and he comes undone.

Shane groans a long, low, loud noise, chanting, “fuck Ryan, fucking Jesus Christ,” over and over until the slick friction becomes too much and his own orgasm has him shaking and panting into Ryan’s shoulder.

*

Ryan woke up late that night, his head pounding in a headache, and he grabbed his phone for a flashlight so he could make his way into the kitchen and get water and aspirin without tripping over his table. He tripped anyway, swearing loudly, and found himself looking at his phone in the dark. So bright it was all he could see even as he sat up and brought it close enough for him to read without his glasses.

A text from Shane: _Not tonight, but not never._

*

“Fuck, dude,” Ryan gasps and Shane laughs, reaching for a towel. He wipes them off, leaning off the bed to toss the towel toward the laundry and grab his sweats off the floor where he left them. He pulls them on, laying back next to Ryan and gazing across his naked body. “No fair,” he says pouting, “why don’t I get to look at you naked?” he asks.

Shane laughs again, tossing Ryan his underwear and getting up to grab some shorts for him to borrow, and says, “you will,” like it’s just a obvious truth. Like now this is just a thing. He smiles, and Ryan wants to kiss the grin off his lips. He does, but only because he can.


End file.
